


but there’s something in your eyes that says maybe

by TooManyGaysTooLittleTime



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Sex, Drive Safely Kids!, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Late at Night, Lesbian Character, POV Lysandra (Throne of Glass), POV Third Person, i do not recommend confessing your crushes while driving, no beta we die like fictional lesbians, which don’t die in this fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28925310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime/pseuds/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime
Summary: Lysandra has always hated waiting, uncomfortable to be kept still for any length of time.//"I hate waiting with everyone but you."//Your car breaking down isn’t always bad.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Lysandra
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	but there’s something in your eyes that says maybe

**Author's Note:**

> heads up: i use "c*nt" to describe genitalia here, so if u r not comfortable w that, this is probably not the fic for u!! i promise i won’t be bitter if u choose not to read because of that. 
> 
> title from "never say never" by queens of the stone age

Lysandra has always hated waiting, uncomfortable to be kept still for any length of time. And it seems like an eternity has passed by the time that Aelin finally gets out of the house and into the driveway, with her face flushed red and her golden hair sticky with sweat. She smiles awkwardly at Lysandra when she gets in the passenger seat, the glitter around her eyes smudged and partially rubbed away, and Lysandra does her best to quell the yearning that rises up in her whenever she sees Aelin.

“How was it?” she asks, waiting for Aelin to fumble with the seatbelt and secure herself in. She taps one lacquered nail on the steering wheel impatiently, keeping her eyes firmly focused on the road. When Aelin is like this, all bright and sweaty and smiling, Lysandra feels those distinctive pangs flood her heart, her mouth dry as it starves for something that she can never have, Tantalus trying to grab a fruit that always moves out of reach. 

Aelin laughs to herself, then, and even that spurs a bolt of jealousy in Lysandra. She wants to know what the joke is, wants to be in on all the parts of Aelin’s life that she’s been barred from. “Yeah, not too bad.” Aelin replies. The grin that follows makes it clear that the party had been better than merely ‘ _not too bad_ ’, but Lysandra chooses to ignore it in favour of twisting the key in the ignition and starting the engine. It sputters to life gradually, and Lysandra mentally reminds herself that she needs to bring the car in to the garage for it to be checked up. Shifting through the gears until she finds drive, she twists her neck in order to see behind her. The drive is clear for the main part, all the cars remaining stationary for the moment even though the party is beginning to come to a close. Lysandra flicks the indicator upwards and pulls out of the parking space she had chosen, eyes moving to glance everywhere but at Aelin. 

Once they’re out of the driveway and away from the house, the long country lanes stretch in front of them, the dark night with the stars unveiled in all their glory above. The roads are empty, almost black, and Aelin’s face is cast in harsh shadows, but the glitter on her cheeks still sparkles. And so, Lysandra’s heart aches. 

Besides her, Aelin leans forwards, tracing a finger across the windscreen. Her eyes are directed upwards, the stars reflected in them through the windscreen, wide and full of fascination. 

“That’s the stag of Terrasen,” Aelin murmurs, chin angled awkwardly so she can gaze at the sky properly. “I always used to look at it when I was in Arobynn’s house. It felt like it was telling me something that I didn’t have the strength to hear.” 

There’s a lump in Lysandra’s throat, but she swallows it down and answers softly, her own eyes lifted to the sky and the stars above, “Maybe it’s telling you something that you don’t have the strength to hear again.”

Aelin turns to her, frowning. “What would that be, though?”

Lysandra turns to look Aelin fully in the eyes. Their glances lock, and she feels nervousness welling up inside her, threatening to destroy this opportunity that is so precious—

She loses her grip on the steering wheel for only a moment, and a moment is all it takes. The car runs off the road and onto the bumpy grass beside it, all control lost, Lysandra grappling to get the steering wheel back under control, but it’s too late. It slides to a stop with an sense of finality, the accelerator jammed when Lysandra attempts to press it into the carpet again. 

After several attempts to start the car again, shoving the keys roughly into the ignition and twisting it, she is forced to sit back and has to accept that the car is well and truly broken-down. And that she and Aelin are stuck in the middle of nowhere. Neither of which bode particularly well for what might happen next. 

She lifts her eyes to Aelin’s again, apologies already forming themselves on her lips, but all the words that she was planning to say fade away as her gaze catches upon Aelin’s. 

The air between them is so still that anything can disturb it. The gentle hush of Aelin’s breath. Lysandra’s heart, rabbiting in her chest. Fingers twisting nervously, locked in each other.

“What were you going to say, Lysandra?” Aelin asks, a hand lifting into the air and pausing before she can cup Lysandra’s cheek, or curl it around Lysandra’s neck. 

Her breath comes too quickly in her throat, and her heart is wild, a drum beating in an irregular, too-fast rhythm. Her eyes flick downwards, then back up to meet Aelin’s again, trapped in a cage of her own making. 

Lysandra feels herself lean in before she can truly consider her actions, Aelin’s face closer than it has ever been before to hers. Her eyes flick closed. They both know what will happen next, the impending possibility hovering in the rapidly disappearing air between them like the onset of a storm. 

“Fuck it,” she whispers to herself, and then she kisses Aelin. The moment immediately after is when she begins to doubt herself—Aelin’s straight, she must be—maybe she just doesn’t like Lysandra back—but Aelin’s hand slides upwards to clutch at her neck, and her lips press back against Lysandra’s, and then all the doubts flee her mind. 

Aelin’s lips taste of the cheap lipstick that she’d put on for the party, half-rubbed away, and her mouth is warm, almost hot enough to burn, against Lysandra’s. Lysandra lifts a hand to tangle through Aelin’s hair, feels the stickiness of damp, sweaty hair against her hands, and finds that she doesn’t mind it, so long as it’s Aelin’s sweaty hair. 

Soon, the little space between them becomes a divide, a barrier separating them. Aelin’s hands are shifting on Lysandra’s body, trying to pull at the cheap dress she had worn, but struggling and getting her fingers stuck in the dress. 

“Backseat?” Lysandra offers when she pulls back, damn near breathless, her cheeks heating red at the obvious offer. 

Aelin nods with little hesitation. “That was where we were going to end up all along.” She pushes open the passenger door, and Lysandra does the same to her door, giddy with flushed excitement as she slips into the back seat. 

It’s slightly more cramped than the front seat, and Lysandra thinks that she hits Aelin with her elbows multiple times as they try to rearrange themselves. Eventually, they settle into place with Lysandra’s legs stretched out along the seat and Aelin’s legs curled up to allow for more space. 

The night casts dark shadows over Aelin’s face, but her eyes, blue-gold, shine in the darkness. Lysandra feels her lips curve into a smile as she leans in, slower this time, burning steadily rather than fast and rapid. 

She pulls at Aelin’s top, tugging it out of the belt of her shorts and dragging it up her body. Aelin allows her to break the kiss to pull her shirt away, leaving only her bra beneath. 

Her hands run up and down Aelin’s chest, sliding over the curve of her shoulder and neck and down the ridges of her spine. It feels indulgent, rich, lavish, allowing herself to _want_. She has spent so much time shoving it away that this moment feels like the finest luxury to her. 

Aelin grins, fingers starting to pluck at the sleeves of Lysandra’s dress. “Let me get this off you,” she says, grinning, leaning over Lysandra and reaching around to unzip the dress down the back. 

She helps Aelin to shove it off her body, kicking it to the floor and then aside, and then leans down to pull her shoes off her feet. They thud onto the car floor guiltily, two loud thumps that make a string of regret twinge in Lysandra. 

But Aelin’s breath is warm on her bare neck, and her hands are on Lysandra’s body, mapping it out beneath roaming fingertips, and she’s whispering praises from heated lips, and Lysandra is full up on Aelin, leaving no room for regrets. 

She works at the belt of Aelin’s shorts, fingers tugging insistently, pulling it out of the belt-loops and throwing it carelessly aside. Aelin’s fingers are already at the button and zip, pressing into her stomach as she works at her task. Moonlight glints over her arms, her golden hair, her bared thighs, and Lysandra thinks that she has never loved a person as dearly as Aelin.

Aelin shifts her hips upwards and works her shorts down her body, eventually kicking them off and into the dark reaches of the car. She gives Lysandra a shit-eating grin, tilts her head to kiss at her chin and then down her neck. 

They are both wild, Lysandra realises with Aelin nipping insistently at her neck, only in different ways. While Lysandra is lacquered claws and sharp white teeth, Aelin is hair tinted fiery by the setting sun, skin glistening sweaty and golden. Her kisses set off pinpricks of flame down Lysandra’s neck, heat spreading like a wildfire through her body. She snags her hands in Aelin’s hair, throws her head back against the seat and urges her down, down, down.

Aelin settles on her knees in between Lysandra’s legs, staring up at her with a wry grin and heated cheeks. Lysandra doubts she has ever seen a hotter sight in her life.

“Get on with it, then,” she comments teasingly, fingers threaded through Aelin’s hair, ready to grip tight. Aelin puts two fingers in the waistband and tugs her underwear away in one quick motion before pressing her mouth to Lysandra’s cunt.

Lysandra’s head slams against the headrest as she writhes in response, legs sliding upward to clench around Aelin’s head. Her hands tug firmly at Aelin’s hair, nails undoubtedly digging into her scalp, but Aelin does not complain, merely continues licking at Lysandra’s cunt.

She is already warm, but Aelin’s mouth sets her on fire, and now she burns. Her head is thrown back, hair sliding down her bared back, and words fail her, leaving only loud moans and gasps to let out.

It does not take a lot before she comes, hips bucking into Aelin’s face as she does so. Her thighs are damp and when Aelin shuffles out from in between them, the fire that had kept her warm begins to dissipate a little, leaving Lysandra only remnants of the heat.

Aelin, however, is still very much aflame, hair wild and fingers reaching downwards, between her legs, to work frantically against her cunt.

“Allow me,” Lysandra murmurs, pressing a kiss against Aelin’s opened mouth. She slides her hand into Aelin’s underwear, relishing the feel of it, and presses one short, dark-red nail inside, her hand buried in warmth. 

Aelin uses one hand to tug Lysandra’s face down, their lips meeting in a clash of teeth together and resulting in a tear in the skin of Lysandra’s lower lip. The pain, however, only drives her to add a second, cut nail into Aelin next to the other. She slides them in and out as much as she can in the limited space, watches Aelin slowly shattering into pieces beneath her.

A great moan slips from Aelin’s opened mouth as she comes, and Lysandra catches it deftly with her own lips. She curls a hand around Aelin’s neck, kissss her sweetly and soft this time as opposed to fiery and wanting.

“I think I might love you, Lysandra,” Aelin days when their lips part, eyes wide and blue-gold, her cheeks still flushed red.

Lysandra hides her laugh behind a hand lifted to cover her mouth. “I have loved you long before this. I was only waiting for you to take notice.”

Aelin pulls Lysandra’s now-ourstretched legs over her lap, a hand sliding over Lysandra’s bare leg. “You do know that the car is still broken down, right?”

She glances out of the window, sees dawn streaks starting to colour the sky pink-orange. “We can wait.”

“And what shall we do while we wait?” Aelin’s eyebrow is lifted upwards, but her gentle panting betrays her tiredness.

Lysandra glances over her nails, lifting them to her eyes. “Why, wait, of course.”

In return, Aelin frowns at her. “I thought that you hated waiting, Lys.”

She shrugs in response, her movements imbued with a lightness and cheeriness that they had lacked before. “I hate waiting with everyone but you.”

At that, Aelin laughs, and kisses Lysandra again as the dawn rises.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave comments and kudos if u enjoyed!! i thrive off them!!


End file.
